


Blood Red Summer

by Arktosphonos



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arktosphonos/pseuds/Arktosphonos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max, a young Dalish First, is kidnapped by the same humans who slaughtered her clan and is sold to the Circle for a few gold bits as an apostate. Her actions lead to the mage to becoming a Grey Warden where she soon takes on a quest to end the Blight that plagues the land.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the first crossover story I've ever written, and I have to say, I'm super excited to actually write it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. 
> 
> \-- Ark

**"We are, we are**   
**We are, we'll always be**   
**The wronged"**

 

The Broken

 

A scream of pure rage fled from her lips as she watched her brethren fall, and it was with little thought that Max caused the earth to rip asunder, raising a large boulder from the ground and hurling it at the encroaching  _shems_. Her people cheered, rallied by their First’s quick thinking, and soon their own blades were unsheathed and their arrows loosed as they prepared to fight against the humans that dared threaten their safety.

Soldiers, the lot of them, all wearing gleaming silver armor and bearing sigils on their shields. It mattered not to Max, they would die all the same. Energy coursed through her as she raised another boulder, and it was with a satisfied smile that she watched the large rock crash into several of the heavily armed humans, crushing them, the snapping of bones and their pained death cries filling the air.

“Good job, lethallan!” A voice cheered beside her. Pride coursed through their tone, setting Max’s soul aflame with joy. She was still so young, face still stinging from the vallaslin that covered her cheeks, even though it had been weeks since she had come of age and earned it. She would not let them down, even if it ended in her own downfall.

Dropping to her knees, Max began to incant, begging the earth to do her bidding. Screams of confusion and fear pierced the foray as large, gnarled roots shot from the ground, haphazardly impaling several of the knights and either killing them instantly or making it so they would slowly bleed out in agony. A fitting end, she decided, for such savage creatures who wished nothing but the destruction of her people.

The young elf grinned as she rose to her feet once more, thrusting her staff forward, directing the earth to shudder and quake beneath the enemy’s feet, causing several of the heavily armed  _shems_ to topple over, making them easy pickings for the elves. They quickly dispatched the humans that were ensnared by Max’s magic, choosing to slit their throats as they passed by, a quick, efficient death.

As the battle continued, Max felt her stamina quickly depleting. She wasn’t used to battle; it wasn’t often she used her magic other than when the keeper asked her to or when she was training. Such long periods of exertion soon had the young elf puffing for air, sweat beading on her skin as blood filled the warm spring air.

Her vision started to blur, blackening around the edges. Her knees quaked, threatening to give out any moment, but her clan needed her to be strong, needed their First to help protect them. Gritting her teeth, Max took a knee, still incanting, still fighting.

But her people were dying, the skirmish quickly turning into a slaughter as the bigger, stronger humans made quick work of the elves with their superior weapons, shields, and armor. They cut through the elves with little care, almost seeming to bat them away like flies before sinking their blades deep within their bodies, ending their life.

_Creators_ , Max thought as she watched another child die before her.  _There won’t be any of us left at this rate_.

Scarlet filled her vision, and it was with a shriek of unadulterated rage that the brunette rushed forward on leaden legs, lashing out with her staff and bludgeoning the  _shem_ that had killed an innocent before he had the chance to get away. She was fighting tooth and nail now, casting her spells and lashing out with the blunt end of her staff, hitting any human that dared get close to her.

But exhaustion quickly started to take hold of her, causing her swings to lose their power after a few mere moments, the hits doing little more than stunning rather than incapacitating her opponents. Before too long gloved hands found their way to her wrists and a well placed fist had her seeing stars. Shaking off the blurred vision, Max weakly scrabbled against the smooth surface of the cuirass the soldier wore, trying in vain to push them away. Another punch was given, blood quickly filled her mouth and pain shot through her nose and teeth.

She would be sporting a black eye and a broken nose come tomorrow.

Her vision swam, blurred, growing dimmer as the human kept punching and kicking her, another quickly joining in until all she felt was unbearable pain lancing through her body from the beating.

_I’ve failed you, Keeper_ , was her final thought as she finally fell unconsciousness, the agonized screams of her people a distant noise that faded to nothing.

* * *

When she awoke, Max was bound and gagged, practically tied to the back of a horse she was slung over. It was with little thought that the brunette began to fight her bindings, struggling to free herself and return to her clan, or what was left of it. Anger, guilt, sadness, all these feelings flowered through her, but the biggest one was guilt.

_I could have saved them_ , she thought as she continued to struggle, unmindful of the angry shouts the humans tossed her way _. I could have used my power to save everyone._

Twisting on the back of the horse, Max fell hard to the ground, the air knocked out of her and her tongue only spared from being bit in half by the unknown fabric that was shoved deep within her mouth. A groan of pain left the elf as she rolled onto her back, her previous beating having not yet been healed.

Hands were on her, dragging her to her feet before she was cuffed on the ear, a ringing pain shooting through the delicate appendage. She was forced to walk from then on, a guard on either side of her. It was humiliating.

For days the group traveled at a breakneck pace, stopping only for short meals and to sleep. Max was largely ignored, only given scraps of food to eat and sips of water every now and then so the elf wouldn’t die during travel. As time wore on, all the fat reserves the small woman had melted away, leaving the elf looking even thinner than usual, almost sickly to a degree as she stumbled behind the horses.

Exhaustion, starvation, and dehydration were daily things the elf suffered now. Her stomach stopped growling days ago, her mouth felt constantly dry, and her legs and feet ached nonstop from the march they were on. Her gag hadn’t been removed often enough and now large sores covered her mouth from the damp fabric constantly rubbing against her. The humans merely laughed as she tried to eat their discarded foodstuffs without her sores bleeding when it was offered to her, but that had been three days ago.

They had been travelling for over a week now. Each time she tried to ask one of the humans where they were headed, she was harshly cuffed, sending her scurrying away, murder clear in her eyes and a spell on the tip of her tongue. But the  _shem_ were smart, and often beat the young girl into submission before shoving the dirtied cloth back into her mouth and moving on once again.

In truth, Max didn’t know where they were going. While she was Ferelden born, the brunette knew very little outside the Brecilian Forest. They had passed through cities, where people gawked and often pointed at her, yet she still held her head high as she passed through these small towns and villages, her pride not wavering even as half healed lacerations and bruises coated her visage. But nothing held clue as to what their destination was.

Finally, after nearly two weeks of travel, the humans’ demeanor seemed to change. They had a certain jovial edge in their conversations, even going about feeding Max real food for their midday meal, which she ate with gusto, as starved as she was, and even undoing the gag and applying a poultice around the raw edges of her mouth where the fabric chaffed her skin.

They even “allowed” Max to bathe in a cold river they passed by, stripping her of her clothing and tossing her bodily into the water. It was one of the most degrading things Max had been forced into as the men leered at her naked form. Rough hands grabbed her, rubbing her skin and hair with a bar of soap before forcing her beneath the surface, where she choked and sputtered on the water that filled her lungs until they let her up. Stumbling to shore, she fell to the ground, a weak, shivering mess as she coughed up the water in her lungs. A soft woolen blanket was placed around her shoulders as one of the humans rubbed her back, whispering gentle words against her ear until she was able to breathe regularly once more.

She watched as said human then stood, starting an argument with the others who had held Max beneath the water, nearly drowning the elf. When they came back, they made a promise to never let that happen again under their care.

Still, Max wasn’t grateful for their sudden change of heart, in fact it only made the elf nervous, and she lashed out with tied hands and teeth as she tried to bite and claw at the exposed areas her captors left open when they tried to dress her. But they were stronger than an emaciated elf, easily knocking her to the ground with a laugh and kicking her squarely in the stomach, knocking the air from her lungs again and again until she could do little more than gasp for breath and tremble under the unrelenting assault.

“Had enough, knife-ear?” They jeered, giving Max one final kick to the stomach before relenting. They laughed, a noise that grated on the brunette’s ears, as they walked away, back to their camp for the night.

They left her naked on the ground, covered in dirt, blood, and bruises, and that’s where the humans found her the next morning, curled into a ball, sleeping lightly.

Once again did they bathe her, scrubbing roughly at her skin until the alabaster skin turned red from their furious work, clothed her, and once more did they feed her, giving her hard bread and hard cheese to break her fast.

Talking, however, was kept to a minimum, and before Max had the chance to finish her meager meal, it as taken from her, thrown to the ground as one of her captors stood, shoving her and encouraging her to start walking.

_How far would they walk today_? She wondered, already stumbling over blistered and weary feet as she trailed behind the horses. The gag, as usual, was set in place in her mouth, preventing the small girl from asking questions. They traveled at a brutal pace, not once stopping to eat or drink, forcing the elf to continue walking, even whilst her legs trembled, often giving out during the long journey, which earned her quite a thrashing each time.

As they walked, the looming form of a tower sat on the horizon, slowly growing larger the closer they approached it. The scent of murky water greeted her senses long before she even saw the mist ridden lake, and finally, to Max’s great relief, they reached the docks, where the soldiers dismounted their steeds and began chatting with another heavily armed and armored man.

Max didn’t care for their words, simply choosing to collapse on the soft grass and rest. Her feet ached, as did her body, but as she sat on dew dampened grass all she cared in that moment was that she had a chance to stop walking for more than a few minutes.

“This ‘er?” The man asked, walking over, crouching down, and visually examining Max.

Max frowned, disliking the scoffing tone the man took. She gnawed at the cloth in her mouth, eyes narrowed, a low growl seeping from her throat.

“Can she even speak the common tongue?” He asked, unmindful of the girl’s threatening posture and attitude, turning his gaze back towards her captors, who merely shrugged.

“We kept the gag on her to keep her from casting spells,” One of them explained gruffly, almost seeming to challenge the other man for their actions.  

“Best to keep ‘er gagged for now,” The man sighed, bringing a gauntleted hand up to rub at short cropped hair. Standing up once more, he walked over towards the group, digging in a pouch on his side before pulling out some gold and placing it in their hands. “The Circle thanks you for bringing in this apostate.”


	2. In The Flame Of Error

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is currently un-beta'd. So please alert me to any spelling or grammatical mistakes you see while reading.

**"These dirty hands just won't come clean**   
**I'm a murderer, the worst these worlds will see"**

 

In The Flame Of Error

 

Max stood there, holding the small phylactery in her hand. The blood inside sloshed around, staining the glass a brilliant red, yet still remaining bright and clear. It had only been a few weeks since the young mage was sold to the Circle, forced to live inside this gilded cage surrounded by  _shems_ and  _seth’lin_ , but it was long enough for the elf to form fragile relationships with others, learning about another mage’s plan to escape the Circle. She quickly asked to join him, which led to the both of them through the basement of the tower, battling possessed armor, specters, and small reptilian creatures with sharp teeth.

She earned her fair share of injuries during the ordeal, but it was worth it if it meant her freedom. The only price the other mage asked of her was for Max to destroy his phylactery, the only known means of tracking down a mage.

With a quick flick of her wrist, the elf smashed the vial of blood on the stone floor, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she watched it spread, following the path the flagstones took before coagulating and sitting still. Let them find the dried blood upon the stone tomorrow, they would be long gone by then.

“We have to hurry,” The human male behind her intoned once Max smashed his phylactery.  “The templars will be searching for us soon and we still have to cross the lake before sunrise.”

Max, having been in charge during this small excursion since they stepped down the stone stairs, easily took the lead, guiding her and Justin back up to the first floor. He didn’t seem to mind, however, easily chatting with the much smaller elf as they walked back. Although still rather fearful of  _shem_ , Max managed to keep up a somewhat friendly rapport with the young mage as they walked, the two talking about what they would do once they managed to escape.

“Me? I have a girl out there, waiting to see me,” Justin grinned as he looked ahead, a dreamy smile on his face. The small patches of facial hair he sported were unable to hide the boyish expression he took on as he spoke about a girl from the Chantry he was eager to see once more. Suddenly, his visage clouded. “They wanted to make me tranquil, Max. I--- I couldn’t live like that, a walking husk of no emotion, I would rather die.”

Turning his gaze back to her Justin asked, “What about you, Max? Are you going back to your family? Is there anyone waiting for you out there?”

“I don’t know,” She answered honestly. Her brows furrowed, lips twisting into a frown as she continued. “When I was taken, my clan was being decimated by soldiers. I don’t even know if there’s anyone left.”

Justin nodded, lapsing into silence for the rest of their time together. She was grateful for that, needing the time to herself to plan on what she would do once she escaped the Circle.

It wasn’t much longer before the two were greeted by the oak doors that separated the basement and first floor. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Max stumbled that last final step as she was greeted by a large majority of the Circle’s templars standing just past the threshold, swords drawn and ready to attack on the Knight-Commander’s word.

“No!” Justin shouted as the templars inched closer, pulling his staff from it’s hold on his back, he swung the heavy metal stave about, threatening to hit anyone who came near. Even Max had to move away from the man’s sudden hostile reaction, lest she be struck as well.

In one desperate moment Justin removed a small blade from his robes, striking the blade deep into his palm. A torrent of blood rushed out, surrounding him, filling the air with its metallic scent and form as it blew back the templars. Everyone was on the floor, save for Justin, and he took the opportunity to bolt, running straight out the door, using his blood as both weapon and shield in a way Max had never seen before.

Blood magic. Justin had indeed been conversing with demons. Even in her clan such things were frowned upon, and any mage known to practice blood magic was cast out if they weren’t properly trained. It was dangerous and sometimes uncontrollable, but a human apprentice, one who knew little of the cunning tactics of demons, had no chance against their wiles and was a great liability.

_He used me_ , was her sickening realization. Anger coursed through her, setting her teeth on edge, fury alight in her eyes.

Before she could stand once more, fully intending to chase after Justin herself, the templars were on her, holding her firm in their grasp, unwilling to let this mage get away, even as several others rose to their feet and rushed to capture Justin before he got too far.

“Bring back the maleficar!” The Knight-Commander shouted as he too staggered upright. He strode forward, grabbing Max by the neck. “Are you, too, a blood mage, elf?”

“No!” Max shouted, struggling in the templars grip. She kicked and squirmed, trying valiantly to break free, but the templars held fast, gripping Max by her robes, her limbs, her hair until all the fight left her. The mage knew she didn’t stand a chance then. Her life was forfeit, the laws of the Circle dictating that she either be made tranquil or killed, and truth be told, Max would rather die than lose the only thing she had left of her clan; her magic.

“Your antics have made a mockery of the templars -- the Circle! What are we to do with you?” David gruffed, finally releasing Max’s throat in lieu of pacing in front of her, angry rolling off him in waves.

“Perhaps I can help.”

The soft clinking of metal graced the elf’s ears as a tall, dark skinned man walked into the room. He had an air of authority about him, one even David couldn’t pull off on his best days.

“Wells,” David spat out the name, seemingly furious that the other male had entered into the conversation. Reaching up, he scrubbed a hand through short dark hair, pulling on the ends in frustration before blowing out a puff of air and seeming to somewhat calm himself. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

The man, Wells, she assumed, grinned, stepped forward and motioned to the templars to release her. With some hesitancy ,and more than one nervous glance the Knight-Commander’s way, they did as bid, letting Max go, where she quickly put distance between herself and the  _shems_.

“I know I came here looking for mages for the king’s army, but I’m also recruiting for the Grey Wardens as well.”

David became absolutely livid at this, face turning a bright red at the implications of Max becoming a Warden. “No!” He shouted. “I refuse to let this deed go unpunished!”

Max, however, simply stared up at this new human, perplexed that such a high honor would be given to her after she helped a blood mage slip free. She expected a quick death for what she had done, not to be bolstered to the ranks of a Grey Warden, an order held in high esteem by all in Ferelden. Even the Dalish held the Grey Wardens in high regard.

“I’ll keep an extra close eye on her,” Wells said, placing a gloved hand on Max’s shoulder as he spoke. “This mage will be under my care and guidance as she helps defeat the darkspawn.”

Max smiled, a half formed smirk really, but it was enough to show that she was pleased with these turn of events. Not only would she keep her life, her magic, but she could legally exist outside the Circle and possibly return to her clan.

“Enough, David,” The First Enchanter, Samuel, spoke. Even now in these terse moments, his voice was as soft as the breeze, a perfect fit for his gentle demeanor. “We have no more say in this matter. Max will go with Wells.” Turning, he gave the elf a smile. “I believe she can atone for her crimes in becoming a Grey Warden.”

“So it’s decided then,” Wells said with a nod of approval, letting his arm drop to his side once more. Still, even while addressing Max, he kept his eyes on David, carefully gauging his reaction to the situation. “Gather your things. We leave on the morrow.”

“Yes, Ser,” Max mumbled, quickly vacating the room and running for her chambers to pack.

 

* * *

 

 

The blood burned as it went down, setting fire to her veins and causing a great wave of agony to overcome her. The chalice in her hand was dropped as the elf clutched at her stomach, teeth grit tightly together so as to keep from screaming, but still desperate whimpers of pain and confusion fled from her clenched jaws. The pain was intense, one of the worst things she had ever been through, and yet, it was over in a flash as unconsciousness took her in its warm embrace.

When she awoke, she had Wells and Warren standing over her, twin expressions of worry on their faces. Warren smiled sweetly at the elf, offering a hand to help her up. Max brushed him aside, staggering to her feet.

“‘M fine,” She muttered, more to assure herself than the two men around her. She wasn’t used to being coddled and didn’t want it to happen now after she managed to survive the Joining. Averting her eyes from the corpses that were laid out on the ground near her, the two other recruits who didn’t survive the ritual, she took a shaky step, quickly falling in step behind Warren and Wells, where they walked to the meeting place of the king for a short briefing before the battle.

“Here,” Warren murmured, rummaging through a small pouch tied to his belt. He withdrew several strips of dried meat and shoved them into Max’s hands. Ever since her arrival, the young human had been practically glued to her side, never travelling far from Max’s personal space, and so far, the elf had found his presence bothersome.

But, she had to admit, the man was a good warrior, often protecting the mage when her barrier fell to darkspawn when they were in the Wilds. So far, the human was proving to be a good ally, often doing his best to try and make the elf feel at ease with his terrible jokes and constant offerings of food.

“Thank you,” Max said, taking the dried strips, gnawing on the meat as the trio walked through the camp to where the king awaited. “But you really don’t need to keep feeding me.”

“Food is fuel,” He said, pulling out some dried meat for himself. “You’ll need as much energy as possible to help defeat the darkspawn.”

A nervous energy suddenly filled Max. She had never seen battle, exempting when she was taken from  her clan. It was a slaughter, she mentally told  herself. Her clan held decent hunters, but warriors? They didn’t stand a chance against the  _shem_ that killed them.

Her heart sank, plummeting to the ground as she realized, even if they survived this battle, her duty would still be with the Wardens. It was something she and Wells had discussed at length as they traveled through the Hinterlands to reach the fortress of Ostagar. Her life was now among their ranks. No longer would she forced to remain in the Circle, but no longer would she be allowed to leave and search for her clan.

This was her life now.

It was with that singular thought she stepped through the ruined archway of the fortress to where the king sat, overlooking a large map that showed the battlefield and surrounding lands. Sucking in a breath, Max steadied herself, holding her head high as she walked to the table, ready to receive the report on the flow of battle and her duties for the evening.

 

* * *

 

 

A boulder flew past Warren, knocking the ogre to the ground. A blood curdling snarl left the monster’s maw, spittle and blood leaving it’s mouth in great torrents as it rose from the floor. Raising his shield once more, Warren charged forward, a battle cry ripping its way from his throat as he charged forward. He plunged the blade deep within the ogre’s leg, twisting the weapon until blood began to gush in rivulets  from the wound.

A large clawed hand came crashing down and batting him several feet away, and if it wasn’t for his shield, he was sure the blow would have ripped straight through his armor and killed him. But the wooden shield was now in splinters upon the stone floor, having served its purpose and saving his life. Tossing the handle aside, the brunet quickly climbed to his feet, retrieving his sword, intent on delivering the final blow to the beast in its weakened state.

He could see Max incanting in the corner, pausing momentarily before running about the small room as she tried desperately to stay out of the ogre’s grasp. She was doing a fair job in offering her support, healing him when needed and sending large pillars of stone and decent sized rocks its way to help keep it distracted. The two soldiers that had joined them earlier now lay dead upon the stone, having being crushed in the large, clawed hands of the monster not long after they reached the apex of the tower.

Poor bastards, Warren thought as he quickly looked at the corpses. They weren’t expecting to battle darkspawn in the tower, let alone an ogre; common soldiers were no match against these beasts. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he was up to fighting it. But watching Max, the tiny Dalish mage, flit about the room, unwavering in her determination to bring the brute down, he felt a surge of confidence pass through him. This is what they joined for.

“Max!” He called out to the elf, taking shaking steps forward before sprinting in, sword in hand. “Go for the legs! Knock it down!”

Max nodded, lips moving, yet her speech was inaudible at this distance apart. Another large stone levitated off the ground before launching itself at the ogre’s legs, effectively knocking it over once more.

Taking the opportunity, Warren crossed the room, plunging his sword deep into the shoulder of the darkspawn, twisting, wrenching, turning the blade until black blood began to ooze forth in great amounts and the beast roared in fury. But still, the deed was done, he managed to sever an artery and the ogres cries quickly fell quiet as it died.

But Max didn’t seem to be satisfied, taking the same lump of stone and bringing it down on the ogre’s head, again and again, sending bits of brain and viscera flying about the immediate area, coating Warren’s armor with the foul smelling substances.

He was puffing for air, sweat beading on his brow as he withdrew his sword from the ogres prone form. Sheathing the blade, he turned to Max who looked just as exhausted as he felt.

“We need to light the beacon for Jefferson’s army to attack,” He stated in a rush of breath.

Max wasted no time, merely waving her hand and causing the wood in the pit to catch on fire. The two Warden’s rushed to the window then, looking outside into the battle, searching to see if Jefferson had ordered his troops forward yet.

“What are we looking for?” The elf asked, craning her head as she scanned the land below.

“There.” Warren pointed to a small gully where a complete battalion of soldiers and a full set of calvary sat patiently. They had a good vantage point, high enough to observe their surroundings and to see the fire, but hidden well enough that the darkspawn wouldn’t attack them prematurely.  “That’s where Jefferson and his men are.” He paused, frowning at their unmoving mass. Surely they could see the beacon by now.

What he saw made his heart stop cold in his chest. Instead of charging forward valiantly into battle and turning the tide, Jefferson and his soldiers turned and retreated, leaving Wells, the Wardens, and the king to perish. White hot rage tore through Warren, and it was with a cry of anger he turned and headed for the door, intent on going down there and doing  _something_.

“Warren!” Max cried out, alerting Warren to the fact something was terribly wrong.

A genlock alpha suddenly burst into the room, several hurlocks and smaller genlocks following close behind it. Soon the room was nearly filled with darkspawn, more and more rushing in in a steady stream even as Warren and Max killed handfuls at a the time. It was too much, too overwhelming.

_We’re going to die_ , Warren thought as a hurlock sliced open his side. He hissed in pain, thrusting the sword up into the creature’s throat, quickly killing it before moving to his next target. This went on for what seemed like hours, killing darkspawn after darkspawn until his arms ached, his hilt completely lathered in blood and making it difficult to hold his sword. Chancing a glance, he could see that Max wasn’t doing to good either.

The mage sported many injuries and was now on one knee, having used too much energy. Empty vials surrounded the girl, alluding to the fact that she had no doubt used all the lyrium on her person and soon her magic would give out altogether.

Taking careful steps backwards, Warren continued to fight the darkspawn that rushed forward while making his way towards his companion. The mage looked terrible, pale and short of breath, as she kneeled upon the flagstones, incanting and doing everything in her power to keep herself alive. When she fell, and he had no doubt she would succumb to exhaustion, she would need protecting, and since he was the only one left, it was left all onto him.

Swallowing thickly at the thought of such a responsibility, Warren dodged another blow, pivoting and shoving his blade deep within the chest of a genlock. The darkspawn sank to its knees, a guttural, garbled noise leaving its maw as it collapsed on the ground, still in its dying throes the genlock lashed out with its axe, ripping through the brunet’s greaves and cutting deep into his calf.

A cry of pain fled from his lips as he fell to his own knees, hand going to the wound and applying pressure.

_This is it_ , he thought as the darkspawn rushed him and Max.  _We're dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we start getting to the good stuff. 
> 
> I know this is an DA: Origins/LiS crossover, but expect quite a bit of story tweaking the further I go. I want this to sound believable, or as believable as this crossover can get, so please, comment on this and offer ways to help me improve my story the more I go along.


End file.
